96

Well, this just changes everything. I had no idea it was coming, but I guess that's why they call it SPLAT! Not bad SPLAT! just "I guess this it SPLAT!"

A Brief History of Bernie

"I was born blind and brown in a den outside Patch. My mother slept through my birth as was the custom at the time."

Those two sentences are my life until I die. I believe in Bernie and the stories he needs to tell. I also believe in Patch, a new idea uniting random directions.

I'm happy, except record heat and no air conditioning limits laptop time to minutes. The good news? I write, draw, and think without it.  Even the keys are hot now.

A Fly Embracing the Web

Judging by the bug mummies, the spiders under my desk lived a pretty good life before Big Suck. . .

"Yum free range dust mite, so much better than caged."

" They fed on organic dust bunnies; each bite tastes like freedom of choice in the food chain."

"Are you doing something different with your hair?"

"No."

Thwupe.

"Doug?"

Thwupe.

"I always knew Heaven was a dust bunny ranch and you'd be here."

"Could be brighter, though."

"Needs a lounge filled with bar flies at last call."

Making room under my desk for me feet is a start.

Closing Credits

The rubber duck circling the drain tells me it's over.

Remembering When My Best Times Were Behind Me

If you embrace a cliche for your life, might as well go with a classic.  I'm going with forty days..


No desert involved, but there comes a time in your life when a weekend to plan the rest of you life seems like a good investment.  I know what I want and where I want it to happen. I know who I want in my life. I know what I want say and who I want to hear it.

Saturday the Thirteenth

I had a great title that became a great story that I'm keeping. Along with the  Island post, Tortoise post, Island with Giraffe post, and Saturday the 13th.

Having unprotected thoughts exposed when I need the money, is not happening. I think what I'll start blogging is current events. How can that be hard?

Fritos and Beans

The most amazing idea I've ever goosebumped, unless you count the one I had last week, struck this morning. It's Faulkner drinks with Brautigan brainstorming Aesop. Happiness abounds in my soul. So much happiness I dance like everyone can see me, because I'm Presbyterian from Wisconsin and that 's  the best I can do. It feels good like sin and self-expression should.

Happiness and excited pacing around here.

How do protect ideas, Cliff?